Shadows In the hall
Chapter 3 – Shadows in the Hall
Ava froze.
"Now you’ve seen what you shouldn’t have."
Damon Blackwood’s voice was a low rumble, cutting through the silence like a blade. He stood just beyond the threshold of the east wing, half cloaked in shadow. His presence seemed to warp the very air around him—still, cold, oppressive.
Ava didn’t move. Her breath caught in her throat as her heart pounded like a drumbeat in her ears.
He stepped closer, the soft thud of his shoes on the carpet the only sound in the hallway. His expression was unreadable. Not angry. Worse. Controlled. Calculated.
"Did you see her?" he asked.
Ava swallowed hard. Her voice barely made it past her lips. "There was a woman. At the end of the hall. She... she vanished."
Damon’s jaw clenched. "That was a memory. Not yours to summon. Not yours to chase."
She lowered her gaze, shame mixing with unease. "I wasn’t trying to... I just heard something. I thought—"
"You thought you were safe," he cut in. "You’re not."
He moved past her, extending a hand to gently but firmly close the door to the east wing. The sound of the latch echoed down the corridor like a warning bell.
"Go back to your room, Miss Carter," he said, voice cool and distant. "And if you value your time here—your life—stay away from this wing."
She nodded, unable to speak. With quick steps, she retreated down the hall, the feeling of his eyes following her every move.
---
Morning light filtered through the heavy curtains in her bedroom, but it did little to chase away the lingering chill of the night before. Ava dressed slowly, her mind still replaying the image of the woman in white. Her hands trembled as she buttoned her sweater.
Margaret was waiting outside her door, as rigid and composed as ever.
"Miss Emilia is in the garden," she announced. No mention of the east wing. No acknowledgement of Ava’s midnight wanderings.
Ava followed in silence, the long walk through the estate’s stone corridors only heightening her sense of isolation.
The garden was overgrown but wild in a beautiful way. Ivy wrapped itself around marble statues, and rose bushes bloomed untamed. In the center of it all sat Emilia, gently swaying on a swing suspended from the thick branch of an ancient tree.
She looked up as Ava approached. There was no smile—just a steady gaze that seemed to pierce through the air.
"You went to the east wing."
Ava stopped mid-step. "Who told you that?"
"I saw it. In my dream."
There was something eerie in the child’s tone. Too calm. Too sure.
"The woman you saw," Emilia continued, turning her attention to a tangle of roses, "she used to live here. Before Daddy locked her away."
Ava crouched beside her. "She lived here?"
Emilia nodded solemnly. "She was important. But she made him angry. So she disappeared."
Ava’s throat went dry. "What was her name?"
"Evelyn."
The name floated between them like perfume—faint, unforgettable.
---
Lunch in the solarium was no less unsettling. Damon sat at the head of the table, silent and watchful. Emilia picked at her food. Ava sat straight, saying little, unsure if she was still being punished.
It wasn’t until the plates were nearly cleared that Damon spoke.
"You frightened Emilia last night."
Ava’s fingers tightened around her fork. "I didn’t mean to. I—"
"No excuses."
He pushed back his chair and stood, walking slowly toward the tall windows overlooking the garden.
"This house has rules. I gave them to you for your safety. Not my own."
Ava nodded. "I understand."
He turned to face her. "Evelyn was my wife."
The words landed with the weight of stone.
"She broke every rule," he continued. "Including the one that mattered most."
Ava didn’t speak. She wasn’t sure she could.
He stared at her for a long, quiet moment. Then he simply said, "Don’t follow her path," and left.
---
That night, the house felt colder than usual. The silence pressed in on all sides.
Ava double-checked that her door was locked and curled beneath the covers, but her mind refused to rest. Thoughts of Evelyn swirled like smoke behind her eyes.
At precisely 3:00 a.m., she heard it.
Humming.
Soft, feminine, melodic. The kind of tune a mother might use to lull a child to sleep.
Ava sat upright.
The sound came from behind her bed—from the wall.
She swung her legs to the floor and crept toward it, pressing her ear against the cold surface. The melody grew clearer. Then...
Three soft taps.
From inside the wall.
Ava stumbled back, heart in her throat. The room was still. The wall, solid. But the knock had been real.
She didn’t sleep the rest of the night.
---
The following morning, she confronted Margaret.
"Who was Evelyn?"
Margaret’s expression didn’t falter. But her eyes... they turned hard.
"That is not your concern."
"I need to know what happened. Please."
"You need to survive. That is all."
She walked away before Ava could press further.
---
Days passed. The house began to change in subtle ways.
Doors that were locked one day stood ajar the next. Books moved between shelves. The piano in the music room played a single, solitary note—at random hours, with no one near it.
Emilia grew more comfortable with Ava, even letting her read fairy tales in bed.
"Daddy says magic isn’t real," Emilia whispered one night.
Ava smiled faintly. "Do you believe him?"
The child thought for a moment. "I think Daddy’s scared of it."
---
That thought lingered.
One evening, when the house had gone still, Ava grabbed a flashlight and left her room.
She didn’t return to the east wing.
Instead, she went to the library.
It was colder than usual. The fireplace was dead. The air smelled faintly of lavender and dust.
She searched the shelves, hoping for some forgotten clue. On the third row, behind a worn volume of poetry, she found a loose panel.
Behind it—an old wooden box, no larger than a book.
She took it to her room and unlocked it using a bobby pin.
Inside were photographs.
Of Evelyn.
One showed her in the garden, another holding a baby—Emilia. In the last photo, Evelyn stood beside Damon. But his face was different in that picture—soft, almost joyful.
On the back, someone had scrawled a message.
“If you find this, Ava, be careful. He lies.”
Ava’s breath caught.
Someone knew her name.
Someone had known she would come.
Before she could process it, she heard it again.
The humming.
Only this time, it came from inside her room.